by M. D. Cooper
She stood outside the facility for a minute longer, looking up at the glinting light from the body of the station that hung far above. During the last few days, her team had brought in the central hub and anchored it to the strand. That five-kilometer-wide tetrahedron would become the anchor for the rest of the station, which would come in at over five hundred kilometers in length.
She pulled her eyes away, thoughts lost in plans regarding the impending delivery of the main arches from the manufacturing facility on Troy’s furthest moon, as she walked to the terminal’s automatic doors. As they were sliding shut, the sound of a vehicle approaching caught her attention and she turned to see an autocab.
She’d expected to ride the elevator alone, but as soon as the car’s occupant exited, he called out her name. She was surprised to see Tony, the planetary engineer she’d met on Tyre.
“Long time no see,” Erin said as he approached.
“That’s right. OK if I tag along?”
“Be my guest. Things too quiet for you on Carthage?”
“Waaaay too quiet,” Tony replied as he followed Erin into the terminal where automatons directed them toward the first available elevator car. “That’s why I thought I’d come over and see what’s happening on Troy. But I’ve had a little fun over the last couple of days fixing an underwater sinkhole.”
“No kidding. I heard about that. My husband’s working on the marine project at that site.”
“Really? I think I might have met him today.”
They walked through the security arches to the departure area, continuing to exchange pleasantries as they approached the departure area and Car 01.
The current conveyance up to the station was a small car that rode a single strand. Later, the full-scale cars that would encompass three strands each would be in operation, but given the low population of the planet, there was no need for bulk transportation yet.
Settling into two of the twenty seats in the car, the pair silently gazed out the window as the car started to rise. Heliopolis quickly grew smaller, and Tony shook his head with a sigh.
“The FGT really didn’t leave much for me to tinker with on any of the planets except Athens,” he said. “I’ve been at loose ends for a while now. It was pure luck I happened to be around when the sinkhole opened. How about you? I bet you’re looking forward to building Messene.”
“Am I,” Erin replied. “This is my favorite part of my job.”
“I was a little surprised to hear you were in town,” said Tony. “I heard you were back in the inner system more or less permanently, but I didn’t think you were coming to Troy for a couple of weeks.”
“I was supposed to be going on vacation, but then there was a change of plan. It’s fine, though. I don’t mind. Manufacturing is ahead of schedule, and I want to be present for the major segments coming in anyway. My team’s good, but in all honesty, this is the best part. Then once that’s done…well, let’s just say that I have so many ideas for this place, I can’t wait to get started.”
“I bet,” Tony replied. “What’s in the cards?”
“The spaceport comes first of course. Tanis wants that completed and loaded up with defense drone production facilities.”
“Of course,” said Tony. “Hey, is it true that you were hollowing out moons in the outer system to build military shipyards?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I guess it’s pretty much an open secret now.”
“Glad to hear the rumors are true. It’s good to know we’ll have some surprises up our sleeves when the time comes.”
“Exactly. Which is why the spaceport is the priority. Then we’ll be building enough accommodations to house the populations of several cities.”
“Really?” asked Tony. “Is there a need for that yet? I know New Canaan’s population has increased a lot over the last few years, but the planets can hold billions, and we’ve not crossed over ten million.”
“We aren’t, but you know New Canaanites. They love to breed. I even have a little one myself, and if his dad has any say in the matter, we’ll soon have more on the way. It wouldn’t be wise to be caught napping when it comes to providing homes for everyone. Besides, there are plenty of people who never got used to living planetside, and we want to keep our worlds as pristine as possible. There’s a demand for returning to the black, even if it’s only above a planet’s surface. I sometimes feel like that myself.”
While Erin and Tony had been talking, Troy’s horizon had developed a pronounced curve. The blue sky had transformed to the darkness of space. The car’s interior began to rotate, using a-grav systems to make them feel comfortable while the planet’s surface shifted from ‘down’ to ‘up’.
“You do?” Tony asked. “I’ve gotten used to the ground under my feet, personally.”
“I thought you might feel like that, I watched your interview with Isa in her infomentary on Tyre,” said Erin. “Hey, I don’t think I ever thanked you for your help with extracting the antimatter bombs the SSS planted. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Thanks, though I’m sure you would have done fine without me,” Tony replied. “Thank stars only one blew. What a freakin’ disaster that could have been. But the Tyrians got everything back on track pretty fast, and the planet’s thriving now. So tell me more about your plans for Messene.”
Erin told him at length. It was a while before she realized Tony couldn’t get a word in edgewise. She decided she’d better wind down.
“If I include everything I have in mind, the project will run for several months, but I don’t have the budget for the extended plans yet. In all honesty, when I’m ‘done’, most of the station will still just be a vacant shell.”
“Things always seem to come down to productivity and credits these days, don’t they? Not like before, when all we needed was Tanis’s approval.”
“Huh, I wish that’s all it took now,” Erin said. “Tanis would approve what I want to do here in the blink of an eye. She has the vision for it. But the system and local governments? Not so much.”
“Tell me about it. These are the people I have to deal with all the time. Have you been following the local news? Did you hear what’s been happening in their government?”
“No, I haven’t heard anything. We only just arrived, and, honestly, I’m not that interested in politics.”
“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there’s a breakaway faction arguing that Troy should secede from the rest of the system. They’ve formed a new coalition party in the wake of the recent elections and, from what I hear, they’re gaining support. For now, they don’t control a majority, but if they get one, it could spell trouble for your project.”
“Stars, what do you mean?” Erin asked.
“If the new faction gets their wish and Troy secedes, all bets will be off regarding planning agreements. Troy could renege on the whole deal if it wants. If the government decides to withdraw its portion of the funding, there won’t be anything anyone can do about it.”
Erin asked, “Surely Tanis won’t let them?”
“She might not want to, but she’s only one person, even if she is governor. She’s the one who established the federal parliament and planetary legislatures, ceding her power to them. She’s still the head of the military, but for things like this, she has to go through channels.”
“Well, shit. Does the charter even allow for secession?”
Tony’s shoulders rose and he cocked his head to the side. “So much of what was in the charter is null and void already, getting anyone to stick to what’s left is well-nigh impossible.”
As he spoke, the elevator car reached the tetrahedron that was Messene Station and passed through a grav-field airlock before slowing as it rose to a debarkation platform.
During the ride, the car’s pressure had adjusted to match the station’s, and the ‘safe exit’ light came on without delay. Erin and Tony rose from their seats and walked out onto the bare platform, unadorned plas and metal surfaces surrounding them.
“Cheery place,” Tony said with a laugh, and Erin shrugged.
“It’s getting there. In a few days, we’ll have plants in place, and the walls will be vistas from the four planets.”
Tony inclined his head in acquiescence, and despite her new disquiet over the political issues on Troy, a comfortable familiarity settled over Erin. She could tolerate living planetside, and spending time with Isa, Martin, and Jude was great, but she wondered if she would ever truly feel at home anywhere except in space.
They took a station car down the large concourse leading off the platform and drove the short distance to the control center, while Walter checked the progress that had been made.
Erin’s team was already hard at work. MacCarthy and Linch were there, as well as a few other engineers she’d worked with when she’d been hollowing out Laconia and the other moons. When she’d put out the call for a team to build Messene, she was able to pick the best of the best.
After greeting the team and introducing Tony, she took her seat. She laughed softly when she saw that someone had already placed a cream soda next to it.
Erin wished that her pleasure at embarking on an exciting new project hadn’t been tainted by Tony’s news. Now that she was finally getting to build her space station, were some stupid politicians going to pull the rug out from under her?
“OK, folks,” she said, “let’s get to work.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
STELLAR DATE: 04.13.8941 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Heliopolis, Ithaca
REGION: Troy, New Canaan System
Myrddan’s agent paused on the wide avenue that led up to Troy’s Government House. The building stood at the center of Heliopolis, and the city’s main roads radiated out from the imposing structure. The architect who had designed the place had been ambitious and blessed with a visionary imagination. Four round towers occupied the outer margins, each marking the corner of a square. The fifth and main building filled the central space: a rising spiral increasing in width to the middle and then decreasing again up to the final floor, which was topped by a spike. At night, the spike glowed, repeating rainbows of color that were visible from all across the city.
When the spike wasn’t lit, the government building’s only color was white, like most of the constructions in Heliopolis, yet the simple hue didn’t diminish the imposing effect. If anything, the plain color added solidity and an air of ancient strength, as if the place had been built on Earth tens of thousands of years ago and brought along on the Intrepid to be reconstructed piece by piece.
The building was far more impressive than Carthage’s parliament, and it epitomized the pride and deep-seated desire for independence that had increasingly characterized the Trojan spirit as the years of colonization wore on. It was this spirit that Myrrdan’s agent had been inflaming for the last few weeks.
The agent’s gaze shifted from Government House to the people, likewise standing and staring or walking up and down the avenue. Most of them were tourists, many probably from other planets, recording their views of the attraction. Some of the pedestrians would be governmental employees arriving for work. A few would be politicians—a parliamentary session was scheduled for that afternoon.
The agent’s challenge was to impart mind control to a select number of key individuals. The task was a tricky one. Physical contact with the subject was required to implant the control, but one could not simply approach and touch certain required people without attracting notice and perhaps arousing suspicion.
The debate was due to begin soon. The agent walked quickly up the avenue.
Passing the security checks to enter the public gallery at Government House was easy. The agent carried no weapons, and an identity check would return crystal clear results. No underhand dealings or suspicious activities marred the agent’s history. The act of maintaining the squeaky-clean public persona had required considerable effort, but it had been essential, and now it was doubly paying off.
Myrrdan’s agent took a seat at the front of the gallery and, while waiting for the proceedings to begin, checked out the layout of the chamber to see where and how it might be possible to closely approach the targets.
The Trojan People’s Party was currently in power. Their representatives occupied the right-hand side of the room on serried benches. On the left-hand side, two political parties took up the seating, though the majority of the spaces were filled by members of the Alliance Party of Troy. In the remaining space sat a party whose formation had been the agent’s doing: the Trojan Independence Party.
Myrrdan’s agent smiled grimly. Prompting the formation of the new party had only been a case of giving a voice and a platform to the underlying discontent in Trojan society; no mind control had been necessary. It had been as if the malcontents on Troy were happy to work in Myrrdan’s favor. They were fools, of course. There was nothing special about their home planet that gave it an advantage over the others. Without bargaining power to secure advantageous trade deals, Troy would quickly become the weakest and poorest world of the four.
The agent felt the gentle nudge of an elbow.
“Would you like one?”
A woman in the next seat was holding out a bag of candies, but eating was the last thing on the agent’s mind at that moment. However, as always, the maintenance of a pleasant persona was paramount.
“Yes, thank you,” the agent said, taking a candy. “These debates can go on for some time, can’t they? What brings you here?”
“A vested interest, unfortunately,” the woman said. “I run a sim center. I’m hoping the bill doesn’t go through. Off-planet visitors aren’t going to react well to being charged more than Trojans.”
“Maybe nothing will come of it.”
Taxes on tourists was the subject for the debate that was about to begin. Someone had proposed that a small tax for non-residents should apply to hotels, tours, entrance fees to attractions, and other tourist venues and activities. The reason given was that the Trojan government subsidized the tourist industry in many areas, so it was only fair that it should draw back some of those credits to reduce the burden of taxation on the local population.
To Myrrdan’s agent, these were petty concerns. Only small-minded individuals argued over such minor details in the operation of worlds and planetary systems. The only aspect of the debate that held any interest was the inclusion of the marine safari park that was currently under construction.
The agent’s interest in the marine park lay in the picotech that would be used there in the near future. It was an odd coincidence that the debate should center around the park that day.
The proposer of the bill continued to speak. Ignoring the woman’s words, the agent carefully assessed the security situation in the room. The armed personnel comprised one guard at each doorway into the areas that were off-limits to the public. The agent would have to secure control of at least one or two of the guards and rely on them to rally others to the cause.
How to do it?
The agent wasn’t without influence in New Canaan. Perhaps directly approaching one of the representatives wouldn’t seem odd.
The debaters droned on. The agent watched and brooded. Just a few weeks more, and the years of waiting and scheming would be over. Then it would be possible to leave this walled-off system.
The neighboring woman was offering candies again. Drowning the scowl that rose in response, the agent smiled and took another one.
After a length of time that seemed interminable, but in reality was less than two hours, there was an intermission. The members of the public gallery rose at the same time as the politicians, and everyone lined up to file out. Deftly, the agent eased through the queue and slipped down the steps that led to the floor of the debating chamber. The guard at the bottom was facing into the chamber, which gave the agent the opportunity to ‘accidentally’ bump into her.
“Oh, sorry,” said the agent. “I tripped on that last step.”
The guard turned
, her expression hidden behind an opaque visor. “No members of the public are allowed into the debating chamber.”
“I know,” replied the agent. “I just…. There she is. Representative Strong! Representative Strong!”
“Step back,” the guard warned. “This area is off limits.”
The woman the agent had called was the proposer of the tourist tax bill. When she heard her name, she turned and walked over.
“I wondered if I could talk to you about your proposal,” said the agent.
At first, Representative Strong looked as if she was about to curtly refuse, but then, with relief, the agent saw recognition in her eyes.
“Aren’t you—”
“That’s right,” said the agent. “I have a couple of suggestions you might be interested to hear. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“Sure, I’m interested,” said the representative, adding to the guard, “It’s fine. Let this person through.”
In three steps, the agent was at Representative Strong’s side and immediately touched her arm.
One guard, one representative, and now the chance to make physical contact with several more key figures in the plan.
The picotech was as good as won.
CHAPTER TWELVE
STELLAR DATE: 04.18.8941 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Marine Park, Ithaca
REGION: Troy, New Canaan System
Martin had always prided himself on being a fast, efficient, dedicated worker, but even he was finding Lindsey’s pace demanding. He guessed the excessive speed she wanted everyone to work at was partly because the sinkhole’s appearance had seriously set back her timetable. Yet he had a feeling that pushing herself and everyone around her to the limits of their endurance was also normal for her. Both Pietr and Margot had confessed to him separately that they’d been relieved when he joined the project. Lindsey wouldn’t hear of taking on any more workers, though.
“No one else is available who has the specialist knowledge or skills we need,” she said, “and I don’t have time to train anyone.”